


Charm Offensive

by DaiseeChain



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-20
Updated: 2010-07-20
Packaged: 2017-11-02 02:44:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/364131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaiseeChain/pseuds/DaiseeChain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Excerpts from 'The Art of the Wizarding Duel', by Prof. Flitwick (HSWW)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Charm Offensive

**Author's Note:**

> **Written For:** [Crucio](http://community.livejournal.com/hp_uk_meetup)  
>  **Recipient:** [](http://r-grayjoy.livejournal.com/profile)[**r_grayjoy**](http://r-grayjoy.livejournal.com/)  
> 

 

 

Excerpts from The Art of the Wizarding Duel

  


(Professor Flitwick, HSWW)

 

 

 

  
  


23\. Never gloat. No one likes a gloater.

 

 

"Did you see me? Wasn't I magnificent?"

"Yes, Filius. We've already agreed about a hundred times that you were like a wild beast out on the dueling ground. Now can you please stop harping on about it and get your round?"

"He just wasn't good enough. Now, if he'd prepared properly in the first place, as I did, he wouldn't have been caught out by my bat-bogey hex!"

"Or, if he'd been the same height as you, the shot would have gone straight over his head and he'd have hit you with the jelly-leg jinx."

Filius opened his mouth then snapped it shut. In the three hours since his resounding victory it hadn't once occurred to him that he might have simply got lucky. That wasn't how dueling was supposed to be at all! It was supposed to a battle of wit and skill!

"Actually", said Josh, between sips of firewhisky, "Messr Rondel wasn't that much taller than Fill here."

Filius puffed up indignantly and opened his mouth to deny he was short, when Amos butted in.

"More or less the same height, it looked to me."

Michael looked confused. "Then how did young Fill here manage to hit him? I thought you all said it was a fantastic shot?" He looked at each of those who had witnessed the early morning conflict, having been too tired from last night's extended game of snap-poker to get out of bed for the big match.

Josh and Peter glanced at each other. "Lucky shot," Amos said. "Messr Rondel thought he'd won and jumped so that he could deliver a finishing blow with his usual pretentious flair."

"Just as Fill here panicked and got off a last second Confringo. You should have seen old Rondel's face. He couldn't believe he'd just been out-dueled by a chance blow from some school kid. Wish we'd had a camera."

Filius realised his mouth was still open and shut it. He sank back in the leather seat, feeling the buttons on it press into his back.

Josh looked over at his friend, shrunk back in the gloom. "Oh don't look so glum, old chap! You won! And in the end, that's all that really counts in a duel."

As his fiends raised their glasses, and called out "To a lucky shot!" in a ragged chorus, Filius threw back his butterbeer. This was absolutely the last time he'd get into a duel, he told himself. It just wasn't worth the effort.

 

 

 

 

2\. If avoidance is not possible, then charm must be used in the first instance, to attempt to defuse the conflict.

 

"Shortfuse!"

Filius ignored the other boy.

"Oi! Shortfuse!"

Filius kept walking, for all the world seeming as though he was so engrossed in his book he might at any moment walk into a lamppost, all the while keeping half an eye on what Rufus was doing.

What Rufus was doing now was heading straight for him. Rufus' gang were holding back, slouching around the low concrete wall, but they were laughing and pointing. Filius had no doubt he was headed for another pummeling.

He had to be careful to make it look as though he was slowing down because he'd reached an interesting part of the book and not that he was deliberately trying to meet Rufus. He'd been practicing for weeks now. It was worth the risk of a beating to know if this would work.

Just as Rufus caught him up and swung him round by the shoulder, Filius whipped the wand he'd stolen from his father's toolbox out from under the book and pointed it squarely at Rufus' nose, saying "Cheerus!" as he did so.

For a moment it looked as though the spell had failed and Filius was disappointed but not altogether surprised. Then a goofy smile spread slowly across Rufus' face, his shoulders lost their hunch, he rocked back on his heels, and threw out his arms. "Shortfuse!" He said in a laid-back tone. "Where you going in such a hurry? Must be some book!"

Filius smiled back. "It's great! Thanks for asking."

"No problemo. It's a beautiful day, isn't it?" Rufus looked up at the sky. "Look! There's a cloud that looks exactly like a donut!"

"Fascinating."

"I've always thought so. I've always loved clouds." Rufus said, mistaking what it was that Filius found so interesting.

"There's a lot to learn about them." In the background, Filius could see Rufus' gang realising that something was amiss. Some of them looked as if they were thinking of slouching on over to see what was up with their leader. He put the wand carefully in his pocket. "Why don't you come and visit the library sometime? It's got loads of books about clouds. But right now I think you should go back to your friends. They seem to be missing you."

"Aww. That's nice. They're a good bunch of lads really. I like's em. And I will! I'll come see you at the library sometime, yeah?" He slapped Filius so hard on the shoulder that Filius nearly toppled sideways. It hurt, but at least it made some of the other boys look a bit less worried; seeing their leader knock someone about was much more usual.

"Before you go though..."

"Yes?"

"I've always wondered why you call me shortfuse."

Rufus frowned for a second, then smiled dopily again. "Ain't it obvious?" He opened his eyes wider and wobbled his head a bit. "You're short, right? And you're name's Flitwick. And a wick is another name for a fuse. And you've got a really short temper. So you're Shortfuse!" He giggled. "Shortfuse! Geddit?"

Filius snorted in amusement. The nickname showed an intelligence with which he'd not previously associated Rufus. It just went to show you couldn't really know your enemy just by looking at him. Clever nicknames and a fondness for clouds. Who'd have thought? "Well, I've got to get this book back to the library or I'll be in trouble."

Rufus nodded sagely. "You do that then. And I'll see you around okay, Shortfuse?"

"Sure!" Filius watched as Rufus turned on his heels and headed back to his gang, then he hurried off to the library, waiting till he was sure they'd be gone before heading home.

He got grounded for a month and all his books on magic were taken off him for flouting the rules on underage wizardry, but he argued his way out of the full penalty by pointing out he was simply following his mother's guidance. After all, she'd always told him to use charm instead of getting into a fight. And it was hardly his fault if he'd misunderstood her, was it?

 

 

 

 

12\. If you have no choice but to duel, do not hold back. Be swift and merciful.

Filius took less time to bow than his opponent. Usually they assumed this was due to his short stature; that he simply needed less time to complete the gesture. In actuality he had perfected the art of the perfunctory bow to allow him time to study his opponent.

In this case, his opponent refused to bow at all. 'He doesn't follow the rules', Filius realised. Sure enough, he barely had time to dodge as the first volley came before the order to begin was issued. Filius ducked, rolled, and fired from ground level. His aim was slightly off but still had the desired effect of ending the duel. Being shorter than average certainly had advantages when it came to conflict with other men. The Italian folded and curled around himself, whimpering. The Master declared the duel over, with Filius the winner. Filius almost felt sorry for his opponent. He wouldn't be having any children now without a great deal of intervention.

 

 

 

 

19\. Do not start a duel, but always finish one.

Filius stamped his feet and blew into his hands. The chill mist had evaporated with the rising sun, but it still wasn't going to be a warm spring day. If he'd known they were going to be out here this long he would have worn his winter coat, rules be damned. It was very inconsiderate of the man to keep them all waiting out here like this. Filius had never head the like before; pausing the duel for a consultation with one's doctor? Preposterous!

His second nudged his shoulder and nodded over at the opposition camp where old Jeremiah was hauling himself off his chair. He didn't look at all well; pasty-skinned and clammy. Well, that was what you got for never leaving your office. But to allow yourself to become so unfit that you had to call a halt in the middle of the duel to regain your breath? Filius still couldn't believe the nerve of the man. Calling him out over such a trivial matter had been bad enough. Refusing all diplomatic channels had been just plain rude. Really, one would have thought a man of such breeding would behave better.

Filius had fully expected the Master of the Duel to refuse the request, but there had been some debate, and then the rulebook had been sent for, and despite a 20 minute search no one could find anything in the regulations to contradict such a request and so a pause had been ordered in the proceedings. Filius shook his head. Ridiculous!

The Master Of The Duel called both parties back to order and Filius took his place. As the duel had previously started he did not bother with repeating formalities and simply stood with his wand held out at the ready, feet slightly apart, left knee bent, left arm slightly behind him for balance.

He looked into the steely eyes of old Jeremiah Lawson and tilted his head upwards in a sharp motion, acknowledging his readiness to finish this fight.

Old Jeremiah glared back at him, harrumphed, and raised his wand.

The assorted onlookers held their collective breath as the duelists stood, poised for a fight to the finish.

Old Jeremiah keeled over sideways and fell to the ground.

His eyes were still unnervingly open, but Filius could see even from this distance that the man was quite, quite dead.

Filius blinked.

"The winner is Master Filius Flitwick," intoned the Master of the Duel.

Filius sighed. Technically, he supposed, this counted as his twentieth victory as they had still officially been dueling when his opponent neatly dispatched himself, and it meant that he was now officially a Master Dueler, but somehow Filius didn't feel victorious at all. How inconsiderate of the man to drop dead of his own accord.

 

 

It took another ten duels before Filius finally accepted the title and the plaque that came with it. The Mayor told him gruffly that it was about time. "That bloody plaque's been taking up valuable office space for years. Get the damn thing out of here," he said, shoving it unceremoniously at Filius. "Oh. And congratulations. Now where did I put that request from the Guild of Thestral Keepers?"

Filius took the plaque home and buffed it with his sleeve. After a short search he finally found the perfect place for it. Milly was very grateful to him for propping her food bowl a bit further off the floor and purred extra loudly over dinner that night.

 

 

 

 

1\. Wherever possible, avoid dueling.

Blast the woman! Why hadn't she mentioned a husband! He might be able to use charms to levitate himself out of the window and to the ground, but it was still an insult to his dignity and pride. Not to mention he'd left in such a hurry that his clothes were now separated from him by three stories and several rose bushes. A swift Accio brought them flying out of the window toward his hiding place behind a large rhododendron, but he didn't miss the man's hand reaching out to snatch back one of the shoes. Now he would not only have to head home with one cold foot, but a rather large and angry man was also going to be on the lookout for a tiny interloper with size 3 feet. Oh well. He'd just have to Engorgio his feet for the next few days and hope it all blew over. Either that or move to a new city.

He was getting far too old for this sort of life anyway. Maybe he should have another look at that job offer his old school had sent him. With a jealous husband on his trail it seemed there might be an advantage to be shorter than most of the students after all. Yes, that was it. A new start and a new life. Time to leave all this dueling and fighting behind and settle in to the next stage of his life; a much quieter life, in a sedate school in the middle of nowhere. After all, how much trouble could he possibly get himself into at Hogwarts?

 


End file.
